The Sudrian Home Guard
by Friedrickson2
Summary: 1940s Sodor, against the backdrop of WWII, sees the Sodor Home Guard strive to become the best of the bunch-if they can stop aiming their rifles at each other first. Humanised characters. A remake of my earlier story "Thomas's Army." T for language and child-inappropriate humour.


_Island of Sodor_

_ June 1940_

Poland had been conquered and divided.

Denmark, Norway and the Low Countries had all fallen to the might of the German military machine.

That same machine was now marching on France, and having forced the British Expeditionary Force to the coast (with the British government making plans for their evacuation), were now heading to Paris to force the government into a surrender, while at the same time Adolf Hitler and his generals were on the verge of preparing for Operation Sea Lion—the invasion of Great Britain.

U-Boats—German submarines—patrolled the Atlantic and North Sea, on the lookout for vessels of the Allies' merchant and military navies, waging an underwater war against them that the Allies, for the time being, found difficult to win.

In short—Europe had become engulfed in war, for the first time in two decades, and it looked as if the rest of the world would soon be following in being engulfed by it too.

It seemed that Europe was on the verge of becoming enveloped by the _Hakenkreuz_, and that democracy and freedom were doomed to die at the hands of the Axis Powers.

However, on the Island of Sodor, lying in between England and the Isle of Man, a small group of brave men (and one or two brave women) were themselves preparing to protect their friends and their neighbours, and to resist the German forces to the bitter end if the worst came to be.

They were the Sodor Home Guard, and in their mind, they were the Island of Sodor's first, last and best line of defence against the Nazis' invasion should it ever happen.

At the very least, they would be those things, if only they could be trained to point their rifles and shoot at the enemy, and not to aim and shoot at each other instead.

* * *

Sir Topham Hatt, having been made a Captain in the Home Guard and placed in charge of assembling the Sudrian branch, had mixed feelings about the people he was standing in front of right now. Some of them he liked, some of them were nothing more than a mild irritant, and others still got on his nerves like hot tea on a cavity and had him thinking murderous thoughts at the worst of times.

Right now, however, these were essentially the only people who were brave enough (or stupid enough, depending on how one looked at it) to have volunteered to join the Sodor Home Guard. So he had to make do with them all for the time being, even if a number of them made him want to pull out his hair (what was left of it, anyway).

Looking at the clipboard in front of him, he saw 12 names written down—the number of people who had volunteered for the Sodor Home Guard so far. While the numbers were far lower than he had hoped, he still had confidence that more people would join as the war progressed—at least, unless the Germans began bombing them first and killed everybody.

He knew why they were all here. They all knew why they were all here. Everyone on Sodor knew why they were all here.

None of them were able to enter the conventional branches of the armed forces for one reason or another (he had checked, and all their reasons were legitimate).

Billinton, Hughes, Avonside and Stirling were all underage (Billinton and Avonside being 16, Hughes and Stirling being 17).

Stanier (no relation to William Stanier of the LMS) and Collett had both attempted to sign up for the British Army when war broke out, but were both rejected on medical grounds.

The rest of them were all working in 'reserved occupations', that the Ministry had deigned too important for those working in them to serve in the armed forces—Gresley, the McIntosh twins and Milne all worked for the NWR (Gresley as a driver, the McIntosh twins as engineers as the Crovan's Gate works, and Milne as a guard), Stewart was a schoolteacher at Wellsworth, and Holden worked at Knapford Docks.

'So far,' though Sir Topham Hatt, 'not so good.' Hopefully, he could convince Skarloey and his group to join up, or (failing that) to wait for people to become inspired enough by seeing the current Home Guard volunteers in action that they would sign up to join too. Maybe Jem Cole and Trevor Boston could sign up too—Cole owed him a favour, and Boston was an old friend of Stewart's.

* * *

He'd be a lot more optimistic with this line of thought too if it hadn't been for the specific people that _had_ signed up for the Home Guard.

Billinton and Avonside, while he liked them both (and they him), were known pranksters and had quite the sharp tongues to boot—Hatt knew Stanier, Gresley and Hughes had all been targeted by their antics at various points and were each looking to get back at them one way or another.

Gresley himself was no saint—proud, boastful and at-times conceited, he had been accused of being condescending and snooty towards the other drivers. He had also once attempted to jam the Vicarstown turntable so as to shirk off a goods train, leading to his engine being sent into a ditch.  
Hughes himself was as vain as he was handsome and had a reputation for rudeness and being a bit of a bully at times, especially towards Avonside and Holden (he had also paid for these incidents in due course, showing there was indeed justice in the world).  
Stanier, while the nicest of the trio, still had his moments of arrogance and vanity, once refusing to heed the warning's of Billinton and others not to drive near the beach one evening three years before (he had paid for it later when, as fog had come in, he wound up driving into the sea and having to be fished out).

The McIntosh twins could be mischievious too, and had quite the smart (and foul) mouths. They also twice had been caught sneaking in liquor into the workplace since they started working for the NWR. Related to this was the fact that they had also been questioned three or four times by police regarding their roles in various pub fights across the Island and in Barrow.

Collett was a far less worrying example than the other miscreants—he was hardworking in both the amount of work he could do and in the 'first to arrive, last to leave' sense, but he could be a little smug (this was an understatement) about his Great Western connections (his father was a stationmaster for the GWR). Consequently, while he was nicer and less of a bastard than Gresley and Hughes, he was still liable to be a little annoying at times.

Stirling, Milne, Holden and Stewart were practically the only sane people of the bunch: Stirling, while having had moments of bossiness and haughtiness when young, had since mellowed and become quite polite, reasonable and quick-thinking (rare abilities on Sodor) and was more than able to reign in Billinton and Avonside and stand up to Gresley and Hughes when they became too big for their britches.  
Milne also had connections to the Great Western, but was not as smug and bragging about it as Collett was (they were both good friends with one another, so Sir Topham Hatt relied on Milne to reign Collett in when he began blabbing on about 'the Great Western Way'), and was also a hard worker who rarely disappointed, even if he was no longer allowed unsupervised into an engine cab after the incident with the turntable.  
Holden was also a hardworking man, but that hadn't stopped him from finding time with his wife of 15 years, Henrietta. Like Stewart, his amiable personality and words of wisdom made him popular among local people (he was originally from East Anglia).  
And Stewart himself, in his capacity as a schoolteacher, was excellent around children—polite, fair, understanding, patient and with the energy of a man half his age—it was no surprise that his students had consistently good results and that he was well-liked by just about everyone on Sodor, even if he only taught at Wellsworth.

4 straight men, 1 piggy in the middle, and 7 causes of migraine—not great prospects for anyone. But—and this was a little overoptimistic—maybe being in the Home Guard would make them into better people.

* * *

"Thomas Billinton," Sir Topham Hatt called out. He was calling out everyone's names to make sure they were there.

"Yes, sir," replied Billinton enthusiastically. Thin, with brown hair and blue eyes, he had an innocent look on his face that made Sir Topham Hatt wonder briefly if he was planning something.

"Edward Stewart." Stewart, a grey-haired man in his forties holding himself up like a military man, and responded to Sir Topham Hatt in much the same way as one. He was, partly owing to his reputation and the portly railway director's knowledge of him, the volunteer that Sir Topham Hatt trusted the most to be responsible, reliable, and not to act as an idiot.

"Henry Stanier."

"Sir, yes sir!" responded Stanier, who was 26 and dark-haired. He suffered from a mild asthma that, while it wasn't too much of an inconveniece, was still bad enough for him to be ineligible for recruitment.

"Gordon Gresley."

"Here!" announced the man in question proudly, a strongly-built 25 year-old with some similar features to Henry Stanier-rumour had it that they were actually half-brothers.

"James Hughes", the owner of that name being a handsome young man with a cocky demeanour.

"Yes, sir!" said cocky-demeanoured young man replied. Hughes, while 17, fancied himself a ladies' man in the making, even if he was really an overconfident berk and couldn't chat up a girl to save his life.

"Percy Avonside," was called next. Avonside, Billinton's best friend and frequent partner-in-crime, responded to Sir Topham Hatt with as much enthusiasm as his friend.

"Toby Holden?"

"Yes, sir," said the man in question, a well-built man of 38 with prematurely grey hair and a friendly yet tough expression on his face.

"Montague Collett," was called next. The ubiquitous volunteer, a well-built man in his 20s with a limp, responded in kind (it was his limp, which made him walk with something like a waddle, that had prevented him from joining the armed forces, and had also led to his nickname 'Duck').

"Donald McIntosh."

"Aye, sir, aye," replied Donald McIntosh. Standing next to him was his identical twin Douglas.

"Douglas McIntosh."

"Aye, sir, aye," responded Douglas McIntosh in much the same way as his twin brother.

"Oliver Milne" was the next name called, and its owner, a young man of average build from Cornwall, responded to Sir Topham Hatt.

"Emile Stirling," was the last name to be called of the 12 Volunteers, and responded with a somewhat higher voice than expected for a young man. Everyone else wasn't surprised—they all knew 'Emile' was actually Emily Stirling, the Knapford stationmaster's daughter, having disguised herself as a boy to get into the Home Guard (it was a somewhat basic disguise, but it had fooled the men at the recruiting office).

* * *

"All of you are here," began Sir Topham Hatt, surveying the 12 volunteers, "because, for whatever reason, you cannot join the Royal Navy, the Royal Air Force or the British Army."

The 12 listened intently to Sir Topham Hatt.

"But the purpose of the Home Guard," he continued, "is that even if you cannot serve in those capacities, you can still find a way to do your duty and be truly, _really_ useful. We are not just the first line of defence if the Wehrmacht reaches our shores, we are responsible for keeping the spirits up for everyone on the Island!"

The McIntosh twins smiled shamelessly. They knew how to do _that_.

Sir Topham Hatt caught their grin, and a sharp glare from him straightened the duo up before he continued on.

"Now, it is worth mentioning that this small platoon of men"—here there were one or two snorts and a quick glance in Stirling's direction—"will be under my supervision. Anything you do while on duty will not just reflect badly on you, but myself, your comrades, and the whole Home Guard. Which means that while you wear that uniform, there is to be no funny business. And that goes double for a select few here—they know who they are."

Billinton and Avonside were biting on the insides of their mouths so that they couldn't snicker or giggle. Gresley and Hughes were sending them death glares.

Collett raised his hand. "Yes?" asked Sir Topham Hatt.

"What will happen if there _is_ funny business, sir?" Collett asked.

"I'll either have your heads on a platter or use my connections to send the culprits down the nearest coal mines" was the blunt response.

This was enough for Hughes to straighten himself and stop sending glances of daggers towards Billinton and Avonside—the last thing he wanted was to become filthy and covered in coal dust. Gresley began to behave himself too—he didn't like the idea of sullying himself with such labour. Stanier, however, smiled smugly inside—due to his asthma, there was no way Sir Topham Hatt would send _him_ down a coal mine.

Given that Sir Topham Hatt had a reputation for ensuring that any and all miscreants on his railway were punished, the others thought it wise to make sure to do as he commanded and keep out of trouble while they were on duty.

"If we play our cards right, and we don't have any 'happy accidents', then we can truly be Sodor's first and best line of defence against the enemy! Scratch that, we can be Britain's best line of defence!"

"Huzzah!" cried out Billinton and Avonside in agreement.

* * *

**AN: This is a remake of an earlier story I wrote several years ago that I later abandoned. Hopefully I do better with this one.**

**Characters are not mine—see HiT Entertainment/Mattel Creations and Egmont Publishing for more details.**


End file.
